Red Empire
by Brievel
Summary: Every Emperor needs an heir, and one must have a wife for that. Stars our two favorite Sith Lords as fathers, plus guilty!Obi-Wan, a group of Senators who never Rebel, Naboo handmaidens, and toddlers vs. Sith Lords. Rating may change.
1. Introduction & A-N

**A/N: In this little AU, Revenge of the Sith ended a little differently. Padmé died in childbirth, and her handmaidens spirited the twins away, blaming the Jedi and Obi-Wan specifically for failing to protect both Padmé and Anakin. Vader's injuries were still as grievous as canon, but he received better care afterwards, and is able to be without his mask for longer periods of time in regular air. Immediately after the advent of the Empire, he found Dormé, who had the twins, and took all three of them, keeping her on as their nurse, with Palpatine's knowledge and permission.**

 **Palpatine/Sidious is less thoroughly Dark, as well, a little more lenient if no less ambitious.**

 **Senator Organa did not get involved in the twins' fate, and remains a wary friend of Anakin/Vader. Senator Danu is also still alive, and an associate of Mon Mothma's.**

 **Order 66 went down as in canon.**

 **Vader retains traces of Anakin.**

 **Legends is irrelevant (except I might cameo Ferus Olin, 'cause I've still got a hopeless crush on him.)**

 **I'm borrowing some names/ideas/OCs from the author DarthRuinous. Will try and remember to note them when they appear.**

 **Bremé is a year younger than the Skywalker twins, and Aulus is a year and a half younger than she is.**

 **There will be chapters that will be part of an established fanon timeline, and some that will be AUofAU. Again, I will try and remember to mark these.**

 **Obi-Wan became a bounty hunter after his failure at first Mustafar and then Polis Massa. Also, he did not see when Anakin burst into flames, having already left to go to Padmé.**


	2. Unlikely Alliance

The Chancellor stared absently out the vast panoramic viewport at the city so soon to be his, allowing himself an uncustomary sneer in the solitude of his office. Sate had escorted his most recent visitor to the door, not yet returned – possibly the pestiferous Senator was detaining his aide, taking up the man's valuable time. The sneer turned more contemptuous yet, as the fair face and ornately styled red hair swam before his mind's eye. Mon Mothma, Senator from Chandrila, had long stood as a thorn in the Sith Lord's side, an annoyance to his plans.

He swiveled from the impressive view, lifting from his desk the datapad she had left, activating the screen and glancing over the long lines of text. Her heart was, to use the vernacular, in the right place – too much so. Her dedication to the people of the galaxy was impressive – impressively sickening. _So naive_ , he mused, perusing the presented resolution. _She genuinely believes that this system works, that she's actually helping the galaxy. If only…_

But 'if only's were not productive lines of thought. Setting aside the vapid bill, Palpatine allowed himself to sink into meditation, reaching for the Dark. _Show me the future_ , he commanded – and as always, the Dark obeyed. Stretching forth his will, the Sith Lord took control of his visions, calling up all that involved the persistent Senator.

Surfacing from his meditation some minutes later, Palpatine mused over what he had seen with some surprise. Mothma would be one of the last he'd suspect of being a willing tool – if not ever a dupe – but her philanthropic love for the common being, currently such a source of irritation, could indeed be turned to his designs. A cold smirk graced the face of the Sith Lord, greeting his favorite aide as Sate Pestage entered a moment later.

"I cannot wait until we destroy such chattel, Excellency," the lesser man said by way of greeting.

"You must restrain yourself a little longer, my friend," Palpatine replied silkily. "The good Senator may yet prove useful." The smirk turned into a full-blown predatory grin at Pestage's open astonishment.

* * *

Mon Mothma stirred her drink serenely, pondering the abundance of information so recently piled upon her. Across the table, glowing yellow eyes examined her minutely, awaiting the reaction that would save or end her miserable existence. Each future held roughly the same amount of probability, and Darth Sidious found himself genuinely interested – mildly, but authentically – in the outcome of his and the Chandrilan Senator's private conversation.

She had taken the news of the Republic's beloved Chancellor being a Sith Lord with merely paling, eyes widening minutely, and his plans of bringing about an Empire without a flicker of her attentively polite expression. The crafty Sith Lord allowed himself a moment's secret admiration of the woman's self-composure – he could think of thousands of Senators, including Amidala, who would've gone into hysterics at such disclosures, but Mothma took it all with admirable aplomb.

The redheaded female returned his gaze after several moments' thought, voice even and steady when she spoke. "I confess I wonder why you informed me of all this, Excellency – or is it my lord?"

"Excellency will suffice," he replied magnanimously.

Mothma dipped her handsome head and continued. "I should not think it necessary to inform me of your intentions before you kill me – and perhaps I have a live mic on now."

"You do not," Palpatine replied smugly. "I ensured it when you entered – and you did not wear one, anyway," he added keenly, eying her closely. Folding his hands, he favored her with an unpleasant smile. "As for allowing you knowledge of my plan, I daresay you can draw your own conclusions..." He trailed off, leaving the end of the sentence suggestively open.

Mothma didn't even blink, the faintest trace of contempt entering her tone. "The pleasure of gloating, I suppose, before eliminating an irritation."

Palpatine indulged a momentary fantasy of discarding his previous scheme, simply letting this sanctimonious woman wallow in the knowledge of the annihilation of all she worked for before terminating her meaningless life. But his future Empire could do well with such a female serving him, and he regretfully let the fantasy pass. "As enjoyable as such an exercise is, my dear, it has its own time and place, and this is not it. No, Senator Mothma, I present to you a choice." He paused, gauging her reaction.

"A choice," she echoed, unimpressed. An internal smile reflected the condescending smirk with which he favored her. A woman with this courage could indeed do well at his side.

"Yes, indeed," he said pleasantly. "I daresay you are already well aware of your inevitable fate, should you not take the position I am going to offer you," he finished significantly. Mothma folded her hands in her lap and watched him, waiting. "A position in my new Empire," he continued smoothly, reaching out to refill both their drinks. His opposite raised a dubious eyebrow, glancing momentarily at the glass before returning her steady gaze to his face. "A position on my ruling council," Palpatine continued persuasively, voice lower, pinning her with his amber stare. "Power, to help shape the galaxy, as you see fit."

"Really," Mothma said skeptically. "As tonight seems to be one for being open, Excellency, I shall be plain. I do not believe that anyone on your future… _ruling council_ , will have any voice at all to disagree with you without their lives, at least, being forfeit."

Palpatine spread his hands disarmingly. "I am, if I may say it myself, a great man, but even I cannot rule the galaxy entirely on my own. I shall need advisers, and the advice of some will certainly have more weight in my decisions than others." He smiled sharply at her. "I am giving you the chance to be one of those."

Mothma considered him a long moment, shields surprisingly strong for a non-Force-sensitive. Not nearly strong enough to keep the Sith Lord out, though, and he drank greedily of her inner turmoil as of an excellent wine. A long minute passed as her emotions slowly settled, dismay and determination giving no hint of her decision. The Force stirred, whispering, the Dark swirling eagerly between the two combatants, hissing encouragement and threats in turn.

"At what price?" the Senator asked finally, composed tone keeping her counsel close.

Palpatine smiled suavely. "Your complete loyalty."

* * *

The Emperor stood in his private office, contemplating the city spread below him. His city, now. A shadow slipped into the office behind him, coming to stand at his left shoulder, watching the lights and movement below them. They stood in silence a moment before the monarch broke the silence. "Impressive, isn't it. All mine, to do with as I will."

A woman's soft voice answered, tired, but bereft of the heavy disapproval that had so long marked it. "All living, breathing beings with hopes, and dreams, and fears, and passions of their own."

"Insignificant to me," Palpatine rejoined heatlessly.

"Not to me," the woman countered, turning slightly to face him.

"It is well for them that they have you," he observed mildly, faint curiosity and derision entering his voice. "They hate you so, and yet you champion them with no less fierceness than in the days of the Republic."

"They do not know my role," Mon Mothma replied evenly, but he felt the flicker of her hurt beneath her calm demeanor, and smiled to taste it. "I am perceived as a traitor."

"You could inform them of the truth." He turned to face her, searching her visage, serene as ever. "Yet you do not."

"It is better if I do not," she replied, looking away and back at Coruscant. Her startled gaze snapped back to the Emperor as he took her hand gently in his, raising it to his lips and pressing a brief kiss to the top before covering it with his free hand.

"Better for who, my dear?" he asked lightly.

Mothma swallowed, dropping her gaze. "For everyone."

Palpatine smiled to himself, watching her intently until she met his eyes again. "If they already see you as a villain, perhaps it is time to reinforce the idea in their minds, a little more forcefully," he suggested softly. The woman swallowed again, slowly curling her fingers around his, eyes still downcast. A gentle, triumphant smile spread across the Emperor's features.

Two weeks later, the birth of the Empire was almost upstaged as the Event of the Century. The Emperor's wedding to the former Senator of Chandrila, and her subsequent coronation as Empress, rocked the galaxy to its already shaken core. The rumor mills went crazy – she'd seduced him, it was a purely political marriage, they were madly in love, he'd seduced her, it was a deal, she was being forced unwillingly into an unhappy union… there were almost as many rumors as tabloids, and the various theories were hotly debated in public and private. The observation of his coldness towards his new bride, and her habitual composition, led towards a general opinion of a political pact between the two.

In the following years, more than one denizen of the galaxy revisited that theory.

* * *

 **This one is dedicated to the talented and lovely DarthRuinous, whose friendship and support has sustained, and is sustaining, me through an exceptional difficult time - and who coerces me into writing when I have neither time nor energy. If the boss finds out about this, Ru, I swear I will come back and haunt you forever.  
**


	3. Meet the Palpatines

The Emperor stood at the vast panoramic viewport, looking out at the city spread below and around him. Behind the lone figure, the door whispered open, a single being coming to stand at his left shoulder, gaze also directed outwards. The two stood in silence for a long moment before the Emperor stirred. "Magnificent, isn't it, my dear. All ours, to do with as we please."

The woman slipped her arm through his, stepping a tiny bit closer, and he wrapped his hand slowly around hers. "You have truly led the galaxy to a better place," she murmured in agreement, staring down at the bustle of beings below with almost maternal protectiveness.

"We, my dear." Her husband turned to face her, loosing their arms to take both her hands in his. Aqua eyes met blue, and the two shared a smile.

"You," Mon contradicted gently. "I have stood beside you, but you are the one who has led us. The greatness of the Empire – all the credit is yours. None of this would be, if it weren't for you."

"You sell yourself short, my dear," Palpatine admonished, reaching out and tucking a stray auburn lock back into the otherwise immaculate coiffure. "Your wisdom and steadiness has wrought much in the building of our realm."

The Empress turned again, to look back out on the city, voice faintly incredulous, faintly sad. "They didn't even care that they have no say. They simply accepted it, and acted as though nothing had changed."

Her husband stood beside her, wearing a trace of a pitying smile. "Few beings have your drive for abstract principles, my dear. As long as nothing changes in their own little world, they care little for such intangible ideas as democracy or freedom."

The former senator sighed, bowing her head. "You were right all along."

The cool pity in the cool blue eyes sharpened slightly, as the Emperor glanced at his wife. "Do not be so disheartened, my dear. You are not entirely alone in your devotion to principles and people."

"It is pointless, though," Mon said, with a small shake of her head. "If the people do not care about democracy, it cannot survive."

"Obviously," the Emperor said with a slight smirk, gesturing simultaneously towards the viewport, and the Imperial symbol that decorated the wall beside it. Mon dipped her head in tired agreement.

"Obviously," she echoed, then added, "But under your reign, we have come to a better place than where the Republic was taking us."

The conversation was ended there by a patter of feet, a door hastily hurled open, and two tiny redheaded figures tearing inside to chase once around their parents. Mon spun, reaching out and snatching the shoulder of the elder with reflexes honed by motherhood, while Palpatine grasped his son's collar and hoisted the toddler up to dangle at eye-level. "What is the meaning of this?" the two adults demanded simultaneously.

Their example was followed by the next generation, the two younglings babbling at once. "-pushed me-" "-pulled my hair!" "-bit me-" "-broke Clorinda, and-"

"Where is your nurse?" their father demanded sternly, cutting through the tearful hubbub. Both the little prince and princess fell silent, looking intensely guilty. Mon sighed aloud, she and her husband sharing a look before marching their miniature miscreants back towards the door.

"Who deactivated her now?" the mother demanded. An intensely sheepish silence greeted her question, until the father gave a low growl.

"Answer her."

"Aulus," the little princess said miserably.

The boy, still dangling from his father's Force-enchanced grip, nodded dolefully. "I did."

Palming open the door, Mon ushered her daughter in ahead of them all, followed immediately by her husband and son. Palpatine plopped the boy down on the floor, nodding to the silent, half-dismantled droid. "Fix her. And your sister's doll. Bremé, next time your brother breaks something of yours, speak to your nanny – that is why she is here. _Not_ ," he pinned them both with a yellow-flecked gaze, "to be dismantled for spare parts when you want to build toys. And do not go dashing about the palace like hoodlums."

"Yes, Father," the two younglings replied in unison, heads hanging a little in shame.

"Endee will have to wait until after dinner," their mother said, glancing at the chrono, and grabbed a tiny hand in each of hers. "Come, you two, I'll wash you up tonight."

Palpatine turned towards the door. "There is a report from Vader I have to finish before dinner, Mon," he said casually, tone remaining perfectly the same as he added, "Oh, and I forgot to tell you earlier, I invited Luke and Leia over for dinner, Dormé will be here soon with them." He finished making good his escape, followed by his wife's incredulous glare and his offspring's squeals of excitement at the prospect of seeing their best friends.

* * *

 **A requested sequel. And yes, I shamelessly stole from Ruin. Again. *hides*  
**


End file.
